


After a long day

by Acaranna



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU, D/s, Established Relationship, M/M, Massage, Mirror-verse-ish, Slave!Spock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-14 00:38:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2171355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acaranna/pseuds/Acaranna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long day of meetings Jim can finally go home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After a long day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yeaka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/gifts).



> So, this is it, my darling Birthday-Girl! (Even if it is a bit late.^^)
> 
> It's been a while since I dabbled into this fandom, so I hope you like it! Thanks to the lovely [imera](http://archiveofourown.org/users/imera/pseuds/imera) as well. She made sure that this is actually readable.^^

Jim sighs and slowly rubs a hand over his face. He's exhausted, his eyes feel gritty and his back is killing him from having to sit through five different speeches and the discussion which always came afterwards. As much as Jim loves the Empire, he hates the meetings he needs to attend in order to stay on the Fleet and more important stay the Captain of the _ISS Enterprise._ There are quite a few Admirals who want him out of that position because he doesn't bend to their will. They call him reckless and arrogant most of the time, danger-seeking and irresponsible other times.

“That was a dangerous thing to say. McKarzack looked ready to kill you,” Bones grumps next to him. His Chief Medical Officer isn't too happy about Jim's choice of words back in the conference room. Then again, he never is no matter where they are and what Jim says. But he's the best medic in the Fleet and Jim would do everything to keep him on his ship. He actually has done a couple of shady things to get him assigned to his ship. Things he will certainly never tell his friend.

“Maybe,” he replies, distractedly rubbing the back of his neck, trying to loosen the stiff muscles. He knows that Bones is right, like so many other times. Jim just isn't a fan of playing it safe, of bowing down to people who think they are so much better than him just because they're in a higher position. Most of them have never been away from their precious home on Earth, have never encountered a Klingon attack or a Romulan quest for territory.

“But Chris looked like he couldn't decide between laughing out loud or groaning in despair,” Jim grins, tilting his head to look at Bones, who's walking beside him with his usual scowl marring his face. He winces when the muscles in his neck pull uncomfortably, sending a shock of pain down his back.

“Damn, those meetings are worse than the prison on PM 45-06,” he pouts, trying to rub the tension out. Bones just snorts in agreement and reaches to the small bag he's carrying around with him wherever he goes. Jim's body moves out of his friend's reach as if he's working on autopilot. It's a matter of muscle-memory and a sign for the many times it has happened over the last couple of years.

“Oh no, you won't,” he yelps, holding his hands out in front of him. “You're not going to stab me with your evil Hypos! I get enough of those when we're in space and you're feeling vindictive enough to make me suffer. I've got another way to relax at home. A much more pleasurable way.” The smirk that steals itself over his lips makes Bones recoil slightly, though his hands stop in their motion to grab the medication.

“Don't tell me,” he grumbles, shaking his head in disgust though it's mainly for show, “I don't want to know. I never want to know what you get up to at home.” Jim just laughs, nodding his head once before they start walking again.

They say their goodbyes once they reach the edge of the apartment block. Jim lives up north, closer to the beach while Bones' apartment lies further east, nearer to the Academy. It's a good choice, Jim thinks, since Bones enjoys doing a couple of lectures every now and then. He amuses himself by scaring the young cadets with gruel tales and even worse warnings. Half of them tend to look green when they leave the classroom.

Jim takes a deep breath of the warm evening air, while his feet carry him closer and closer to his home. He's looking forward to his shower, an actual shower, with water and not the sonic ones he gets when he's in space. He enjoys both, but it's different, much more soothing to actually feel the dirt being swamped off his body. To watch it swirl down the drain until there's nothing left but a clean feeling.

And there's something else he's looking forward to. Or rather, someone else.

The smile sits firmly on his lips when he enters the key to his door, watching it open with a quiet _swoosh_ , revealing the red-lit hallway behind it. Jim loves watching the sunset just as much as he loves the sunrise. There's something final, yet endless about the circle of day and night. He misses it when he's out there exploring, fighting, conquering. Therefore he always makes sure to watch both as much as he can whenever he gets the chance. There is no telling when, or if, he will return from space.

Entering his home Jim opens his uniform jacket and drops it onto the small table that holds a picture of his family. His apartment holds a slightly higher than usual temperature, not for him, but for the one waiting for him. The hat follows and a moment later his shoes land in a heap beneath the little table. He doesn't care about wrinkles or scuff marks on his clothes, his pet is going to make sure that everything will be presentable when he needs it again; once Jim allows him to actually move, that is.

Right now though, his pet is settled in the middle of the living room, still as a statue with his hands tied to the opposite elbow behind his back. It must have been uncomfortable to have them in that position for hours, but still his pet sits there, motionless and quiet. Jim doesn't even have to gag him anymore. He rather enjoys the quips he gets when he allows them to be more playful with each other, or the discussions and arguments that appear when they're on yet another year-long mission.

The only sign that his pet acknowledges his return is a slight straightening in the already proud position. Even though he's wearing a black-out blindfold Jim gets the feeling that his pet is watching him intently; and it makes him shiver slightly. He isn't sure if he's happy with his decision to deny himself the joy of seeing those expressive dark eyes watching his every move, but he has to do it, because otherwise he would never leave the room. They can hold a whole lecture with one simple look, something that amuses Jim to no end when he's locked in a conversation while his pet is sitting beside him.

“You've kept your position, just like I told you to,” he murmurs, walking over to where his pet is kneeling. Running his hand through the silky, black strands, he grins. “I'm so proud of you, Spock.” There's only a very small amount of mocking in his voice, and even that is more of a loving kind. His pet is half-Vulcan after all, and if there is one thing Vulcans are known for, it's their control and their logic. Jim has spent a lot of time teaching Spock that it would be illogical to disobey him – the punishment would have been severe.

Pulling the proud head back Jim captures the inviting lips with his own, initiating a deep, possessive kiss. Spock, who usually fights for control during their kisses, merely complies and allows Jim to take full lead of it. His breathing is slightly elevated when Jim breaks the contact, but otherwise he's unresponsive and motionless.

“So good,” Jim breathes, leaning further down to unlock the cuffs. “I'm going to take a shower now and when I come back, I want you to be ready to help me relax. I had to endure a lot of speeches today and I need to unwind.” He doesn't have to say more than that. It has taken Jim a long time and a lot of hard work, but now Spock knows what he has to do and what awaits him when he refuses to do it. Jim can still see the welts on his back and shoulders, dark against the pale green skin. He looks beautiful.

Letting go of his pet Jim turns around and moves into the bedroom. The sheets are still rumpled and there are various articles of clothing strewn around. Chuckling to himself Jim adds another layer to it by stripping out of his shirt and dress-pants. Spock always frowns when he sees the mess in their bedroom, but he's forbidden to clean it up, since Jim needs at least one room that suits his personality.

His socks, boxers and the white undershirt land in a pile next to the shower before stepping into the cubicle. Spock will take care of that as soon as Jim releases him from his other duties; though he hasn't decided on when that will be just yet.

For now he's enjoying the hot water pounding onto his back, massaging his aching muscles until the pain ebbs away and he can feel himself relaxing slightly. Time passes unnoticed, it's only when the skin on his fingertips begins to wrinkle that Jim starts to actually wash the dust and sweat from his body. He's efficient in his movements and even more so when he washes his hair.

Shutting off the water, once he's done with rinsing the shampoo out of his hair, Jim steps out of the cubicle and grabs one of the towels that hang on the heating rack. He's drying his hair first before using another one to wipe the water from his body. Wrapping the towel around his waist Jim steps closer to the mirror above the sink. It's fogged up from the steam.

Jim runs a hand over the smooth, wet surface. His reflection is blurred, but he can see the tiredness on his own face. He's actually starting to look forward to their next five-year mission, even if he has to leave Earth behind yet again. Being away, in space, is easier than being on his home planet. Out there he doesn't have to defend his every action; he just has to decide if the gains outweigh the consequences, or not.

 _There's no use to think about those things, not now_ , Jim decides and drops his towels onto the pile of clothes besides the shower. Naked and still slightly wet he leaves the bathroom.

Spock already waits for him, kneeling besides the bed. He still wears the blindfold, though the bed has been made and covered in a thick, soft blanket. A smile tugs on Jim's lips; his pet has gotten used to the apartment it seems. He is so familiar with the it that he has no problem locating the blanket and the massage oil, which sits on the bedside table.

“Good,” Jim murmurs, aware that Spock already knows he's there. His pet isn't easily surprised, has never been – not even when Jim bought him on Orion. Though Jim likes that kind of stoicism in his pet, it makes finding new ways to shake the iron control a nice and exciting game. So far, Jim knows that pain isn't as effective as it is on his other slaves. But abandonment, and even just the threat of leaving Spock behind somewhere, gets him the best results when it comes to unwanted behaviour.

Laying face-down on his bed, Jim wriggles up until he can wrap his arms around one of the pillows. He can already feel himself getting drowsy and smiles into the fabric.

There's a dip in the mattress from where Spock slowly climbs into the bed. His long body folds itself easily over Jim's, a knee on either side of his hips. He watches his pet reach out to take the bottle with oil. A shiver runs over his skin from anticipation and makes his toes curl. Spock has dangerously talented hands, not only because he's a touch telepath and just knows how to please, but also because the strength in those hands seems to sap every bit of tension from Jim's muscles.

He's going to think about the Admiralty on another day. For now Jim is going to concentrate on the hands weaving their magic on his body.  

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave a comment - either here or [here](http://acaranna.tumblr.com/)!


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